It's about that time of year again. The months of the year that TV tells us are for tanning, boozing, and meeting hotties on the beach to have a little love affair with. That's right folks, summer is upon us so we should be happy -- shouldn't we?

Funny how expectations are always different from realities when it comes to these few months of leisure and pleasure, and I somehow get the feeling I'm not alone. For me, since about the age of 11 when I began middle school, I've had a strange relationship with this season.

I've personally always thought that summer was overrated. I consider myself to be more of a fall/winter kind of person. My relationships are at their best then, there's no expectation to look good in a bikini, my birthday, Fashion Week, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years all land during this time of year, plus I love the coziness and sense of togetherness these seasons bring. Summer, however is a very different animal.

As a child, summers were kind of my jam. Summer meant days spent at summer camp, laughing in the sun, splashing in the pool and making millions of craft projects to take home to mom. When I wasn't at camp, I'd go on mini-adventures or vacations with my mom to Las Vegas or Catalina Island to go camping. Summer as a kid meant no responsibilities, my laziness was approved of and I was never bored because I had an abundance of friends.

While I do have many fond memories of summer, this season comes to represent a time of change and riffs in my relationships with others. I also associate summer with many bouts of depression. While in my most recent years I have had a great deal of fun during summer; taking trips to Vegas with friends, flirting with cute boys, working my ass off at cool internships and part time jobs, I cannot say it's all been sunshine and rosé.

Without fail, it seems like for the first two months of summer I experience a sort of melancholy that isn't necessarily popular to post on Instagram. What people may see in my social media posts, is a happy girl lounging on Venice Beach in a bikini, or picnicking in Marina Del Rey, enjoying a show at the Hollywood Bowl or sipping cocktails at a trendy pool party in Downtown LA. In reality, in those moments when I'm not consumed with work or play I'm often very insecure and very uninspired.

Summertime for me is often associated with a time in life when I'm not sure what I'm doing; nothing is ever certain. While grasping onto the security that school provided for me, even if I didn't like going, I had routine to my day. There's something about meandering around or sitting aimlessly waiting for that job, waiting for what to do next that always makes me feel as though I'm not doing enough. I'm not at my best when I'm doing nothing.

Summer is also a time where my relationships seem to consistently be put to the test, when I am faced with either not seeing someone for too long or spending too much time with them and something inevitably goes awry. Every breakup I've ever gone through has occurred during summer and every time I've had a major fight with a friend or family member has been during summer. As a person who loves hard and values relationships, this can be very upsetting.

Currently I am somewhat worried that my summertime blues may resurface because I do not do well with change. Having just ended my over 16-years-long education last Sunday, and I am beginning a new and exciting chapter of my life as a full-blown, grown-ass adult. I will no longer be going to school, never again buying ungodly expensive textbooks, never again worrying about finals; but somehow I am both sad and relieved but nonetheless, excited, very excited to finally earn money full time! Hopefully with the new life I am beginning so too, will I have a new, more positive relationship with the summer season.